


Now is the Time

by MackenzieW



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Cinderella Elements, F/M, Inspired by movies, OQ Movie Week, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2019-11-26 19:25:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18184733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MackenzieW/pseuds/MackenzieW
Summary: After the death of his father, Robin of Locksley goes into hiding and becomes the infamous Robin Hood. He protects his family's former tenants from the greedy nobles trying to take their hard earned coins or all their food for themselves, while also stealing to help the tenants survive. He longs to avenge his father's death and get his family's lands back, but just doesn't know how to do so.Everything changes when all the eligible bachelors in the Enchanted Forest are invited to a ball given by King Henry and Queen Cora so that their daughter, Princess Regina, can find a husband. Robin hopes to get his lands back but may end up gaining so much more than he ever dreamed.Written for OQ Movie Week





	1. Me, Who am I?

**Author's Note:**

> I was specifically prompted with Cinderella and intrigued a few people when I suggested making Robin Cinderella. So here's Robin Hood-meets-Cinderella. 
> 
> Title is from the 2013 Broadway production of _Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella._

### Chapter 1: Me, Who am I?

            Once upon a time, Robin had been happy.

            At least, he believed so for as he grew older, the memories of his childhood seemed more like beautiful dreams. He tried to hold onto them with all his might, especially the ones of his mother. She had died when he was young so each memory he had of her was like a treasured jewel to him—the sound of her laugh, the sweet smell of roses that always wafted from her, the way her blue eyes shone when she smiled, the warmth of her hugs, the way she would say “I love you” and the feel of her kiss on his forehead. He did his best to remember and cherish those above all else, letting those memories be the light he needed in his life.

            Plague took his mother from him. He hadn’t been able to say goodbye to her properly as his father had ordered their servants to whisk him away to a safe house on their property to make certain his heir did not get sick as well. Robin recalled his mother’s smile as she watched him be carried off, laying pale in bed. It would be the last time he saw her as he was finally allowed to leave his safe house to stand in the family graveyard as her coffin was lowered into the cold ground.

            The sickness spared his father and though the death of his wife greatly affected him, he did his best to raise Robin. He oversaw Robin’s education, wanting to make certain his son and heir was ready to become lord of the manor once he was an adult. While Robin was smart, he wasn’t always the greatest student. He always longed to be outside, climbing trees or shooting arrows at the various targets set up for his father’s guards to practice. His father often grew exasperated when Robin escaped his tutor but Lord Locksley understood his son’s spirit, working with Robin to find a good balance between his studies and time spent outdoors.

            As he grew older, Robin started to accompany his father to visit the tenants who lived on their property. Father collected rent from them—paid either in coins, vegetables, fruits, or other goods—before listening to their grievances. He tried to find solutions as best he could, always patient and so wise. Robin had been in awe watching his father, who stressed the importance of helping others to his son.

            “We were fortunate to be born to a life of comfort and wealth,” his father told him. “Therefore, it is our sacred duty to help those who were not.”

            Robin took that to heart, vowing to grow up to be a man his father—and his mother—would be proud of. He vowed to be a lord who was fair and generous, just like his father before him. Entering the awkward years between childhood and adulthood, Robin started to take a greater role in helping their tenants and developed friendships with those others would consider beneath him.

            He didn’t see class, though. Rather, he saw boys on the verge of manhood like him who liked to go carousing. He dressed in plain clothes to go down to the local tavern, drinking ale and dancing to lively music that would never be played in the Great Halls of those others considered to be Robin’s peers. Other times, he listened to bawdy stories, played cards, kissed some pretty women, and for a little while he forgot the responsibilities and burdens that would be placed on his shoulders once he became lord of Locksley.

            For the most part, though, Robin was very happy as he approached adulthood. But his happy and idyllic life came to a violent and fiery end shortly before his eighteenth birthday. He had bid his father goodnight before changing into his commoner clothes and sneaking out for the first time since the New Year due to a rather snowy winter. Robin met his friends at the tavern, buying them a round of drinks as Little John dealt some cards for the first of many games together.

            Several games in, Robin was on his second ale and had a pretty girl on his knee as she proved to be his good luck charm. He set down another winning hand, gathering up the cakes they were betting rather than coins and kissing the young lady on his knee. She giggled, kissing him back as she played with the ties on his shirt. Robin had yet to know a woman in such an intimate way but now as he approached eighteen, he believed it was time he took that next step toward manhood. Perhaps he would spend the rest of the night with the fair lass and get lucky in another way.

            “Oi, Rob, you in or you out?” Will Scarlet asked loudly, interrupting the sweet kisses the lass was placing along Robin’s neck.

            Robin had just decided he was out so he could continue thanking his good luck charm when the church bells began ringing. He frowned in confusion as everyone in the tavern went silent. The sun wasn’t even up so certainly they weren’t being called to prayer. As his mind fought the effects of the ale, he recalled the other reason for the bells to ring and his stomach turned.           

            “Fire!” the barkeep yelled. He picked up a bucket and stepped out from behind the bar. Everyone else abandoned what they were doing it rush out to help fight the fire before it caused too much damage.

            Robin joined the stream of people emptying onto the street. He could smell the smoke in the air but couldn’t see it. Looking around the little village, nothing seemed to be on fire there. So where was it?

            “It’s the manor house!” someone yelled. “Lord Locksley’s manor is on fire!”

            The words made Robin’s heart constrict and he took off running toward his house. He needed to help his father, to make certain everyone got out safely and put out the fire before it did too much damage.

            Will and Little John followed him as he headed up the path that lead to where the stables were on his property. He heard the horses whinnying and feared that was really where the fire was, though it would be easier to save the stables than the manor house.

            As he entered his family’s property, he came to a stop. The stables were not on fire—just the main manor house. Robin’s eyes teared as he watched flames shoot out from different windows, black smoke rising up from the building and curling up into the night sky. He tried not to think of what was being lost inside, praying his father and their servants were safe.

            He spotted his tutor, a jovial monk named Friar Tuck, as he helped a young kitchen maid out from the house. Robin ran over to him. “Tuck! Tuck, what’s going on?”

            Tuck’s eyes grew wide and he grabbed onto Robin’s arm. “Robin! Thank the Lord you’re alive!”

            “What? Of course I’m alive,” Robin replied, confused. “Have you seen my father? Did he get out?”

            “You need to run,” Tuck told him, not answering his questions. It was as if he hadn’t heard them.

            Robin dug his heels in to slow his mentor’s progress. “No. I need to help my father.”

            “Your father is dead.” Tuck gripped his shoulders as he turned to look Robin in the eye. “Ruffians broke in and murdered him in his bed before setting fire to the house.”

            Time stopped as Robin processed Tuck’s words. His father was dead, murdered. Anger boiled his blood and he tried to break away, determined to find the scoundrels who took his father from him and make them pay.

            “Robin, you can’t go back there,” Tuck said, his grip so tight it was as if his hands had transformed into iron.

            “I need to avenge my father,” he growled back, trying to fight off the older man. “They need to pay!”

            “They’re looking to kill you too! That’s why they set the fire!” Tuck yelled. “They want to destroy the Locksley line!”

            Robin stopped, his eyes growing wide at that. They then narrowed as he realized the friar knew quite a bit. “What is going on?”

            Tuck shook his head. “I’ll tell you later. Right now, you need to run. You are the last Locksley. You want to avenge your father? Live. That’s what he would want for you.”

            Glancing up at his home, Robin’s heart broke. He started to sag in Tuck’s hold, giving the friar a chance. Shoving Robin toward Will, Tuck snapped at him and Little John: “Take him into the woods. There is a widow by the name of Lucas who lives on the outskirts of the next town over. She will hide him.”

            “What about you?” Robin asked, afraid now for his mentor.

            Tuck gave him a gentle smile. “I will find you. Go!”

            “Come on, Rob,” Will said, tugging his arm. Little John grabbed the other and as the roof of the manor house collapsed, they took off running into the woods and away from the chaos as the other villagers finally arrived to try to fight off the flames.

* * *

            The three friends traveled through the forest throughout the night and well past the sun’s rising. Robin’s stomach growled, longing for food and his throat grew parched. Will was able to find some edible berries and nuts for them to eat before they found a creek of fresh water to sate their thirst. They rested for a bit but did not sleep, did not chance it. Instead, they continued on until they broke free of the trees and found a little cottage with smoke curling from chimney. Will went on ahead, confirming that it was owned by Widow Lucas before Robin and Little John emerged from hiding.

            Widow Lucas gave them a proper meal and let them sleep for the first time. Robin’s dreams were dark, filled with flames and smoke as his father pleaded with him to avenge him. He awoke brokenhearted and angry, tears drying on his cheeks.

            A few days later, Tuck arrived at the cottage. He explained that Robin’s father had made some powerful enemies amongst the other nobles by suggesting that they should pay more in taxes rather than forcing their tenants to do so. “Rich men are like dragons,” Tuck said. “They will hoard their treasures rather than part with even a paltry sum to help better others.”

            “And so they killed him?” Robin asked, anger now always simmering.

            Tuck nodded. “And because they want the Locksley lands and tenants. That’s why they wanted you dead too. They still will if they realize you are alive.”

            Robin rubbed his face. “Now what?”

            “That’s up to you,” Tuck replied. “My only advice to you is to stay alive for your father’s sake.”

            He then handed over a bag he had been holding. “This is all I could salvage from your house, Robin.”

            Robin reached out a shaky hand, thanking the man. He then excused himself, wanting to be alone as he went through the remnants of his once happy life.

            Outside, he opened the bag. Most items were small items, though he was glad Tuck managed to rescue the miniature portraits painted for his parents’ wedding. He picked them up and stared down at his parents, hoping they were reunited in whatever lay beyond this life. There were a few books as well as the green cloak and hood Robin had been gifted for Yule. It held a silver brooch with his family’s crest, a roaring lion against a shield, and Robin traced the figure with his thumb.

            At the very bottom of the bag was his bow and quiver. Robin pulled them out lovingly, staring at them. He then glanced at his parents’ portraits once more and knew what he had to do. Tuck was right, he had to stay alive. It would mean going into hiding and dropping the Locksley name until he could properly reclaim it. But he also had to protect his family’s tenants from the treacherous nobles who had orchestrated his father’s murder so that they were not bled dry of all their resources.

            He stood, wrapping his cloak around his shoulders and tucking the brooch in an inside pocket. Pulling up the hood, he vowed to make the greedy nobles pay for his people’s better life until he could make them pay for taking his father’s.


	2. The Prince(ss) is Giving a Ball!

### Chapter 2: The Prince(ss) is Giving a Ball!

            Two golden doors were thrown open, making Regina jump. Her fingers went limp, sending the book she was reading tumbling to the ground. She stood straighter as her breathing grew shallower, watching as her mother approached her. Dark skirts billowed around her, giving the impression she was walking on dark clouds.

            “Regina! There you are,” Mother said, frowning. “What are you doing here?”

            “I had a free afternoon,” Regina replied, heart pounding as she worried she had forgotten something and her mother was about to punish her for it. “I came in here to study more of our country’s laws.”

            Mother looked her over before sniffing. “At least you’re doing something constructive with your time and not off daydreaming ago. Or worse, hanging around the stables.”

            Regina clenched her hands, balling them into fists. She loved riding her horse as it was the closest she ever felt to being free. Otherwise, she was stuck inside longing for a life where she wasn’t a princess who could do anything or go anywhere without her mother’s approval.

            “Did you need me for something?” she forced herself to ask.

            “Yes. Your father and I have an announcement. HENRY!” Mother called out.

            Regina watched as her father hurried into the room and closed the doors behind him. He gave her a soft smile as he approached Mother, standing next to her. “Regina, your eighteenth birthday approaches…”

            “Meaning you are now old enough to marry,” Mother interjected.

            Her words made Regina’s stomach turn. She had been dreading this birthday since she was sixteen and Mother started introducing her to eligible nobles, hoping to arrange a marriage before so that they could celebrate Regina’s eighteenth birthday with a wedding. Regina felt like a horse being auctioned off—inspected from every angle, her every move and word judged while she was unable to do the same with the men and boys her mother hoped she would marry. She was to be the queen—shouldn’t they pass her inspection rather than the other way around?

            When she had voiced that thought to her mother, she was told to keep her tongue in her mouth for men didn’t like women who challenged them like that.

            “Aren’t you going to say something?” Mother asked, interrupting Regina’s thoughts.

            “Who is he?” she asked, trying not to sound as bitter as she felt. “Who am I to marry?”

            Her parents exchanged a look and Mother looked down, scowling at the floor as Daddy spoke: “That hasn’t been decided yet. And we’re not focusing on that aspect just yet.”

            “Henry!” Mother chided, looking up again. “Of course that’s what we’re focusing on. Why else are we throwing this ball?”

            Daddy frowned. “To celebrate our daughter—our only child—on such an important birthday.”

            Mother rolled her eyes. “We’re inviting all the eligible men in the kingdom. One of them will become the next king of Mist Haven. I promise you that.”

            Regina hated when they talked about her like she wasn’t there. Her anger boiled and she bit down on her cheek to keep from speaking out. Talking back to Mother never ended well and she didn’t want to tell with one of her punishments that day.

            Without another word to Regina, Mother stalked away. She slammed the door behind her, leaving father and daughter behind in silence.

            “Must we go through this charade?” Regina asked, her voice low.

            Daddy frowned as he approached her. “What do you mean?”

            She shook her head, feeling a lump form in her throat. “Mother has already chosen who I am to marry. She won’t let me make a decision on my own. Not when she can sell me to the highest bidder.”

            “That’s not what she’s doing,” he protested, though it was a weak.

            “Isn’t it?” Regina crossed her arms as she walked away from him, toward a window. “I have to impress them, not the other way around. I’m the one who has to spend the rest of my life with whatever man she chooses, not her. I should have a say in who it is.”

            Daddy approached her. “You should. That’s why I’m throwing the ball. You heard your mother. All the eligible men in the kingdom will be invited.”

            She glanced over her shoulder at him. “And I’m supposed to decide in one night? By sharing just one dance with him?”

            “Of course not,” he said, his voice warm as he placed his hand on her back. “But a few might strike your fancy. Then you can get to know them better and choose who you want to marry.”

            It all sounded so nice and Regina wanted to believe him. She knew, though, that that would never happen. “Mother would never allow it.”

            “Do not worry about her,” he assured her, rubbing her back. “I want you to have fun at the ball.”

            “Fun?” she asked, tilting her head.

            He nodded. “Dance, talk with new people and don’t even think about marriage. Just be merry. It’ll be your birthday.”

            She gave him a soft smile, leaning against him. “I’ll try.”

            “That’s all I ask,” he said, kissing her head. He removed his arm, sighing. “Let me go talk with your mother. You go back to whatever it is that you were doing.”

            He walked away and once the door closed behind him, Regina let her smile drop. She knew her father meant well and that he truly was throwing this ball so that she could enjoy herself. However, she knew that when push came to shove, her mother always got her way. The ball would be all about marriage and finding the man who had the biggest pocketbook as Mother felt that was the only true gauge of a person’s worth. Not who would be most suitable to help Regina run the kingdom, someone who would support her, who she wanted to spend the rest of her days with and more importantly, who she wanted to sire her heir.

            Regina leaned against the window, looking down at the kingdom below her. She envied the people down there, people who had more freedom than she. At least they could move freely and married whoever they wanted, whoever they loved. She had accepted that she would never be afforded that freedom, not when she had a duty to her country before her heart. Especially since she knew almost any of her suitors would be more interested in the crown and power than her love.

            Still, she couldn’t help but wonder—was there someone out there who would love her just for being Regina?

* * *

            “Your rent is thirty coins.” Sheriff Nottingham glared at the older gentleman, who clutched his worn hat in his hands as his wife quivered next to him.

            The man swallowed. “Please, sir, you only collected two weeks ago and you took the last of our harvest. We have nothing to sell to earn coins with.”

            “That’s not my problem,” Nottingham sneered. “You owe rent to the lord who owns this land. If you want to keep living in your house, you need to pay him. I’ll be back at the end of the week. You better have the coins or you better be out of your house.”

            As the man sat down and tried to comfort his crying wife, the sheriff looked around at the other villagers gathered in the small stone church. From the pulpit, Friar Tuck glared at him. “This is a house of worship, a sanctuary. I will not have my flock threatened here,” he told the sheriff.

            “You have no say in this matter,” Nottingham replied, never looking at him. He reached into a pocket in his clock, pulling out a scroll. “I have important business to attend to and have been granted permission to conduct it where I see fit.”

            He unrolled the scroll, revealing a crude ink drawing of a hooded figure. “That scoundrel, Robin Hood and his so-called Merry Men, have robbed another carriage. We remind you that anyone found harboring those outlaws will share the same fate as them—a short drop and a sudden stop. Anyone who turns them in will be handsomely rewarded.”

            A stony silence descended upon the church. No one moved or made a sound. They all glared at Nottingham, who huffed as he rolled the scroll back. “Fine. I’ll give you all time to think about it. Robin Hood isn’t going to be our salvation but rather your destruction.”

            He walked out of the church, the thud of his boots against the floor echoing around the church. The door slammed shut behind him and they heard his horse gallop away toward the town line.

            Robin dropped down from where he had been hiding in a crawl space under the choir loft. He landed on his feet as his trademark green cloak billowed around him. Straightening up, Robin smiled at the people in the church as they cheered. A few children happily called his name, running up to hug him. He obliged them, picking one up and tossing him in the air playfully.

            “Did you really rob that carriage?” the child asked once he was safe in Robin’s arms again.

            “I did,” he said. “And so I’ve come bearing presents. Men!”

            His Merry Men burst from their various hiding spots, all carrying bags of coins. They started tossing them to the people gathered there, all who snatched them up with tears of joy. Robin watched from the side, happy and proud that he could still provide for his father’s tenants in such a time of need.

            “Thank you,” the man the sheriff had threatened said, clutching a big bag as he held his wife’s hand. “This will certainly keep the sheriff off our back for some time.”

            Robin nodded. “I hope so. Though you should all be careful with how you spend the money. If he knows you have the coins, he’ll come through to get them.”

            “It’s not fair,” another person said, shaking his head. “Whoever our new lord is, he is bleeding us dry. Even with your help, Robin, we might still have to leave or face certain death.”

            “I’m trying,” Robin said softly.

            A woman near him nodded, placing her hand on his arm. “We know. And we are so grateful for all you’ve done for us. It’s just…never enough.”

            He sighed, setting the boy in his arms down. Forcing a smile on his face, he bowed to them. “I must retire so I can plot my next job with my men. Have a good evening.”

            Robin headed toward the back door, his men following him. They slipped out to where they were hiding their horses and mounted them. Urging his horse forward, Robin led them to their secret hideout in the woods of Sherwood. It was a short trip and his mind raced even racer than his horse. He tried to help his people, trying to take care of them as best as he could while hiding from the mysterious person who had killed his father. Whoever it was though was far greedier than Robin ever thought possible. Everyone called him the thief but Sheriff Nottingham was the real one, coming around almost weekly to rob good people of the hard earned coins they needed to survive. Soon, they would be forced to leave—and then who would he get his money from then?

            It would also be difficult for his people to move on and start over, almost dooming them to a life of destitution. Robin couldn’t let that be there fate. He just wished he knew how best to stop that from happening. All he could do for now was rob the people who got fat and rich off others’ hard work and redistribute the wealth to those who needed it, delaying what seemed to be the inevitable.

            “Rob? You okay?” Will’s voice broke through Robin’s thoughts, drawing his attention back to his surroundings.

            Realizing they arrived at the Great Tree, Robin reined in his horse and dismounted. He looked around at his men, most who have joined him in the almost eight years since his father’s death forced him into this life. They were a loyal lot, capable of pulling off elaborate heists without getting caught and willing to give all their loot away to those less fortunate. He was grateful to have all of them.

            “Get some rest, lads,” he told them with a smile. “You all did well out there.”

            The others cheered with the exception of Will and Little John. His dear friends frowned, watching him. As Robin headed to his tent, he felt them following him and so held the flap open to allow them to enter as well.

            “What’s wrong, Rob? You seemed out of it back there,” Will said, concerned.

            Little John nodded. “Is it because of what that woman said in the church?”

            “Yes,” Robin admitted with a sigh. He then sat down on a stool he had been given, feeling older than his twenty-five years. “And no.”

            “That’s…pretty confusing,” Will said, plopping down on Robin’s bed while Little John continued to stand.

            Robin rubbed his neck. “I know. It’s just…I’ve long feared I’m just sticking my finger in a small hole in a dam but doing little to keep it from collapsing completely.”

            They stared at him, not really comprehending what he said. He sighed. “I worry that what help I’m giving isn’t enough and I won’t be able to save my father’s people, my people, from vagrancy and poverty.”

            “You’re doing everything you can, Robin,” Little John assured him.

            “It doesn’t feel like it,” Robin confessed, pain and fear filling him. He glanced over to where he kept his parents’ portraits, worrying that he was disappointing them.

            The tent flap opened and Tuck stepped in. He looked over at Robin. “I overheard what you said. I think I can help you.”

            Robin sat up straighter, frowning. “How?”

            “This way,” Tuck said, setting down a sealed letter. It was addressed to the lord of Locksley. “Open it.”

            Confused, Robin broke the seal—the royal seal, he realized—and opened the letter. He scanned it, realizing it was an invitation to a ball in honor of Princess Regina’s eighteenth birthday. Tilting his head, he glanced up at Tuck. “Are you suggesting we rob those attending the ball?”

            “No,” Tuck replied. “I’m suggesting you go.”

            “I highly doubt they want an outlaw like me there,” Robin said, letting the invitation fall to the ground.

            Tuck bent down, picking it up. “The ball is open to all the eligible men in the kingdom.”

            “Yes. Eligible as in rich and titled,” Robin pointed out. “I am neither.”

            “You may not be rich but you are technically titled, Lord Locksley,” Tuck said.

            Robin frowned. “I can’t use that title, remember? We need whoever killed my father to believe I’m dead so he doesn’t me too. Then my people will be really screwed.”

            “And that’s been true for the past seven, almost eight years. Now, though, is the time to reclaim your title. The ball is to find Princess Regina a husband. If you go and woo her, you could become king. Then you can find who killed your father and save your people,” Tuck pointed out.

            It was a good plan, Robin had to admit. Yet there was something in the pit of his stomach, like a stone that had sunk to the bottom of a lake. He shook his head. “I won’t use her like that. The princess is an innocent party who deserves to find a husband who will love her.”

            Tuck tilted his head. “What makes you think that won’t be you?”

            “Because…” Robin paused, really considering it. Who was he to say that he wouldn’t be able to fall in love with the princess? However, no one knew much about her. She kept to the palace, only glimpsed at by the few who attended ceremonies up at the palace. What if she was too vain? Or unintelligent? Or just boring?

            And of course, who was to say that she would fall in love with him? She could reject him for several reasons. The plan just had to many holes.

            Glancing at the invitation in Tuck’s hand, he knew though that it was a chance he couldn’t pass up. He stood. “I won’t go to try to woo the princess…but perhaps I can talk to her and form an alliance, a way to get my lands back by royal decree.”

            “That sounds like a good plan too,” Tuck said, “but don’t count out the chance you might fall in love.”

            Robin raised an eyebrow. “You seem determined to see me married, Tuck.”

            “I just want you to have the same happiness your parents had,” his mentor said earnestly. He tucked the invitation in his cloak. “I’ll keep this for safekeeping. For now, we need to get you a proper outfit fit for a lord attending a ball. I’ll be back.”

            He bowed and left the tent. Will glanced at Robin. “You really are going to this ball? As a guest and not as a job?”

            Robin nodded, placing his hands on his hips. “I am. It’s an avenue I need to pursue, to help us all.”

            “We’ll help you, mate,” Little John said, clapping Robin on the back. “Whatever you need.”

            “Thank you,” Robin said, grateful for his friends. It had been years since he had acted like a nobleman and he was going to have to brush up on etiquette and dancing. He was going to need all the help he could get if he wanted to impress the princess and get her help.

            All of Locksley depended on it.


	3. Impossible

### Chapter 3: Impossible

            Robin had been tutored for years in many subjects. He knew math, history, science, agriculture, and law. In addition to his skills with the bow, he also could wield a sword as well as a battle axe. Robin learned to ride horses at a young age and was an accomplished rider. His father had spared no expense to prepare Robin to become the next lord of Locksley…except when it came to lessons on etiquette and gentlemanly behavior.

            To be fair, Robin believed that would’ve been his mother’s duty to teach him and it wasn’t as if his father left him completely untrained. Father believed in teaching by example, gently correcting Robin when the situation called for it. Yet Robin couldn’t mimic his father now, so he needed to learn everything he needed to know before the ball.

            It was probably his most daunting task yet.

            Granny took him under her wing to teach her everything he needed to know. She had grown up in the court of another lord and had watched as his children had received their education in such matters. Under her watchful eye, Robin learned the proper silverware to use for each dish he would be served at the ball’s dinner portion and how to eat like a gentleman. She taught him how to drink wine like a lord, telling him slamming back tankards of ale would not be appreciated by his well-bred peers.

            After he mastered table manners, she moved onto greetings and conversations. Robin knew how to properly bow but she taught him who he needed to bow to and who need to bow to him. Though his father had always been referred to as “Lord of Locksley,” Robin learned he was really a baron and fell in line under several other titled nobles—duke, marquess, earl and viscount—so he would need to bow to all of them. Anyone who did not hold a title, no matter how wealthy, had to bow to him.

            “So we’re supposed to bow to you?” Will asked, amused by the lesson.

            “Of course we are,” Little John replied, cuffing his friend. “We’ve always known Robin is of a higher class than us. It’s just he’s never made us do it before.”

            Robin gave them a look. “Because you are my friends. Friends don’t bow to each other.”

            “Unless you’re at an official function,” Granny added. She clapped. “Now, let’s go over appropriate conversation topics. Which ones are generally safe?”

            “Crops, livestock, tenants, fashion and food,” Robin replied. “Nothing of true substance, though I wouldn’t think that of my tenants.”

            Granny smiled. “That’s because you, like your father, actually give a damn about your people. That puts you in a very small minority of nobles. Most of the others will prefer to complain about their tenants.”

            “I don’t know if I can keep my cool if they do,” he replied, scowling.

            “You can always excuse yourself politely,” she told him. “Pretending to see someone you absolutely have to talk to about a horse always works.”

            He chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

            “Now, how should you proceed if conversations turn toward politics, such as trade agreements or the military?” she asked him.

            “Hold my tongue, especially if they are of higher rank or older than me,” he answered, recalling her teaching. “Listen to what they are saying. If I agree, I can add to the conversation. If I disagree, I can either just nod and vaguely seem to agree or there is someone I absolutely have to talk to about a horse, please excuse me, gentlemen.”

            She laughed, clapping. “Very good.”

            “Thank you,” he said, bowing with a cheeky grin.

            Granny sobered as she placed a hand on Robin’s shoulder, looking him in the eye. “Now, it’s easy for us to joke about it here in my kitchen. Things are going to be different when you are standing in the palace’s ballroom, listening to all those men talking. You are going to hear things that will make you angry, that will disgust you and will make your blood boil. You are going to have to keep your cool and not lash out. It will not be easy.”

            He swallowed, understanding her warning. Robin knew he had a temper and that he was a passionate person, especially when it came to people being treated unfairly. Those attending this ball certainly weren’t going to agree with his beliefs about his tenants or anyone they considered beneath him. If he made a scene, though, he was likely to be thrown out of the ball before he could talk to the princess or put her off from helping him even if he wasn’t asked to leave. Or even worse, put his life in even more danger. He would be walking into a room that could contain the man who had killed his father and stolen his lands, the man who was Nottingham’s mysterious employer. A man who believed Robin dead and would no doubt want to finish what he started almost eight years ago. It would not do for Robin to make a scene and draw even more attention to himself.

            “I understand,” he replied solemnly. “There is a lot on the line. I need to grit my teeth and fake a smile through it until I can at least talk to the princess.”

            She nodded, pleased with his answer. “You will most likely first meet her by being presented to her. That will not be the time to talk with her. You will be one of many eligible men on line, so all that’s expected is for you to bow, thank her for the invitation and wish her a happy birthday or something along those lines. She will thank you for coming and tell you to enjoy the ball.”

            “Sounds simple enough,” he said. “Then what?”

            “You’ll see her at dinner but given your station, you’ll be too far away from where she will be sitting between her parents to talk to her,” she told him.

            He nodded, frowning. “So my best chance to talk to her will be…?”

            “When dancing,” Granny answered. “Try to partner with her for something like the waltz. That’ll guarantee you one-on-one time without anyone else around.”

            Robin blanched. He was able to dance several courtly dances as many were similar to the reels preferred by the lower classes. The ones danced at court just seemed to involve a lot more bowing and were accompanied by more instruments than a couple fiddles and some tin whistles. He had never danced a waltz before and feared he would make a fool of himself if paired with the princess. “Is there another option?”

            “There are a few dances where you wouldn’t have to change partners, so you would spend the entire dance with her…but they also require you to be in a square with another couple. You could try to have a conversation with her, but I doubt it will go well, especially with another man trying to win her affections there with you,” she said. “The waltz is your best bet.”

            “You look like we’re asking you to waltz with Nottingham himself,” Will commented. “What’s wrong? Don’t you know how to waltz?”

            Robin glanced down and Granny let out a knowing sound. She patted his back before barking: “Scarlet, you’re now a woman. Congratulations.”

            “The hell?” Will barked back. “Why do I have to be the woman?”

            “Because I said so,” she told him.

            Robin looked up, smiling as Will approached him, grumbling. He looked in Robin’s eyes. “I hope you appreciate this.”

            “I do,” Robin assured him. “Thank you…Willa.”

            Will groaned. “Please don’t.”

            “Robin, place your right hand on Will’s waist and take his right hand in your left. Will, your left hand will go on Robin’s shoulder,” Granny instructed.

            They did as she instructed, feeling a bit odd as they stood there in what Robin realized was a rather intimate manner. Most of the other dances required hand holds, nothing more. And when Granny pushed them closer together, he realized that he was going to almost nose-to-nose with the princess.

            Well, that certainly would help him converse with her.

            “The waltz is in three-quarter time,” she instructed. “And most of the time, you will be stepping in a box while slowly rotating with her. It may not seem like you will be moving but you should make at least two revolutions around the dancefloor depending on the size of the ballroom and the length of the song.”

            Robin nodded, moving every time she instructed him. He would need to lead and she corrected his footwork as well as his stance. Together, he led Will around Granny’s kitchen several times.

            “Good,” she praised. “You’re getting it. Now, we should add some music. Little John, can you fetch Alan?”

            “Oh, please,” Will said, looking up with a pained expression on his face as Little John slipped out of the cottage. “Must anymore of our men see this embarrassment?”

            “Aww, do I embarrass you, Will?” Robin teased him.

            Will shot him a look. “Shut up, Rob.”

            Little John returned with Alan and his guitar. Alan stopped short when he saw how Robin and Will were holding each other before giving a snort. “Oh, this is precious. Someone must draw this later so we can all enjoy it for years to come,” he said.

            “Just play for us so we can end this before Will dies of embarrassment,” Robin ordered him.

            “Do you know any songs in three-quarter time?” Granny asked.

            Alan nodded, his smile growing wider. “Ahh, the waltz. How romantic. I’m so happy for you two.”

            “ALAN!” Robin and Will yelled together.

            “Fine, fine.” Alan sat down, placing his guitar on his knees. He strummed a few chords, his fingers going up and doing the neck until he found the right place. Alan began playing in earnest, a sweet tune that Robin felt wouldn’t be too out of place in the palace ballroom.

            Granny clapped along in time to the beat. “One-two-three-and,” she counted. “Move to that. One-two-three-and.”

            Robin did as she instructed, stepping in time to her counting as he and Will danced around the kitchen again. After a few revolutions, Alan repeated the song and Granny stopped counting. It was up to Robin to keep track of the beats and he did so, never missing one step as he and Will made a few more revolutions.

            Granny clapped when they finished. “Very, very good. I think that’s enough for now. Tomorrow, we’ll go over a few tricks that you can use while dancing the waltz. Dips, lifts and fancier spins, things like that.”

            “You expect me to lift Will?” Robin asked, glancing at his friend. He then added: “No offense.”

            Will held up his hand. “None taken. I don’t want you lifting me either, mate.”

            Granny chuckled. “My granddaughter is due back tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll be willing to partner with you. It’ll be easier to practice the tricks with her as she’s more likely to be closer to the princess’ height and weight and form.”

            “Thank you,” Robin said, hugging Granny. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

            She patted his back. “Thank you. You’re the reason most of us can stay here. I know once everyone finds out what you’re trying to do, they will appreciate you even more.”

            He nodded, pulling back. A somber thought crossed his mind and he said: “I just hope I don’t fail them.”

            “You won’t,” she assured him, squeezing his hands. “I’m certain of it.”

            “If anyone can do this, it’s you, Robin,” Little John agreed as Will and Alan nodded.

            Robin grinned but inside, he was filled with doubts. He wished he had half the confidence his friends had in him. Maybe then, he would really be able to save everyone like he wanted.

* * *

            “No, no, no!” Mother yelled, slamming her hand on the harpsichord’s cover. The poor musician playing jumped, his fingers crashing against the keys and creating a jarring sound.

            Regina stumbled backwards, almost tripping on her skirts. The young guard who had been recruited to dance with her reached out and grasped her arm, steadying her. “Careful, Your Highness,” he said.

            “Thank you,” she replied, cheeks burning. She had stepped on his toes several times already and had nearly tripped over her own two feet just as many times, yet he still treated her with patience and kindness. Regina knew they were lucky to have a man such as him protecting them.

            Mother waved him away. “You are dismissed, Humbert. I wish to talk with my daughter.”

            “As you wish, Your Majesty.” Humbert bowed, his dark blue eyes flickering back to Regina. She watched as he left the room, holding her breath in anticipation of what was to come.

            “What was that?” Mother asked her harshly. She whirled on Regina, crossing her arms. “I’ll tell you what that was—an utter disgrace.”

            “I’m sorry, Mother,” Regina said meekly, hoping it would be enough to appease her mother even though she knew it wasn’t.

            Mother frowned. “You’re sorry? I don’t need you to be sorry, Regina. I need you to be better! We can’t have you stumbling around like a newborn deer at the ball. How will you impress any of the men when you’re too busy crushing their toes?”

            Regina felt as if she had been slapped and she fought to keep the tears from her eyes. “I’m trying, Mother…”

            “Trying isn’t good enough!” Mother bellowed. “You need to be perfect.”

            “That’s impossible,” Regina countered, gaping at her mother. “You can’t truly expect that of me.”

            Mother paused, as if really processing what she had said. Her expression softened and she reached out, gently cupping Regina’s chin. “I just want you to be the best you can be. I want you to make a good match, Regina.”

            “For me or for the country?” Regina asked though she suspected the answer.

            “Both,” Mother answered, surprising her somewhat. She had expected Mother to say for the country.

            Regina grew a bit bolder. “How is dancing going to help with that? It really doesn’t indicate anything.”

            Mother’s smile fell. “Regina…”

            “But it’s not,” she continued, ignoring the warning tone in her mother’s voice. “I stumble during the waltz. Anyone who sees that will only see that I struggle with the waltz. They won’t see that I am capable on a horse, can hold my own with a sword, am able to recall the specifics of almost all our trade agreements and can make a delicious apple pie. Nor will it tell them anything about my dreams and passions or anything about my personality. It speaks nothing about who I am as a person.”

            “It means that you are not graceful or elegant. No man wants a clumsy clod as a wife,” Mother hissed.

            Regina frowned. “Who cares what _they_ want in a wife? What about what _I_ want in a husband?”

            “Foolish girl!” Mother released her chin and slapped her hard across the cheek. Regina gasped, clutching her clinging cheek as tears blurred her vision. She turned away from her mother, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

            Mother hovered close by her. “This is a man’s world, Regina. All women must please them if they wish to survive in this world. Put any romantic notions about men respecting you for who you are rather than what you are aside. They won’t serve you well. You will need a good, strong man by your side if you wish to rule and trade with other countries. Strong men will not want a sniveling and clumsy girl who acts more like a boy. They will want a beautiful, elegant and soft creature that will make them feel strong and powerful and smart. Do you understand?”

            Regina bit her lip, unable to answer and afraid she would start sobbing at her mother’s harsh words. Mother grabbed her and spun her around, shaking her. “I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!”

            The doors opened and Regina heard a timid voice speak: “Your Majesty, Magistrate Nottingham and his son are here to see you and your husband.”

            Mother released Regina, backing up. She took a deep breath and school her face into a neutral expression. “I will be right there,” she said.

            Once the servant left, Mother gave Regina a hard look. “Go clean yourself up and then join your father and I in the throne room. You should greet the Magistrate and his son.”

            Judging by the emphasis on that last part, Regina knew Magistrate Nottingham’s son was someone Mother considered to be eligible for her hand. Though she wanted to flee to her room and not come out until after the stupid ball was over, Regina knew her mother would never allow it. She took a deep breath and dropped into a curtsy. “Yes, ma’am.”

            “Good,” Mother said before walking away.

            Tink, Regina’s faithful handmaid, rushed from the shadows. She frowned as she approached Regina. “Are you hurt, Your Highness?”

            “Nothing that won’t pass,” Regina replied. She looked at the petite blonde woman. “Is it red?”

            “Mostly pink. We can probably hide this with powder,” Tink said. “Especially as it clearly is a hand-shaped.”

            A treacherous thought crossed Regina’s mind. “Maybe I should go down there like this so all can see the handprint. And announce to ignore the mark. Mother just slapped me, that’s all.”

            Tink smiled before it fell. “It’s probably not wise to rile up your mother anymore.”

            “You’re right,” Regina agreed with a sigh. “Do you have the powder then?”

            “I can go get it and a comb. We should probably just run it through your hair once,” Tink said, studying her. She hurried back to the shadowed part of the room. After a few moments, she returned with the tools. Regina wondered why she would have them so readily available but learned Tink was just prepared like that.

            As Tink powdered her face, Regina sighed again. “Is it so wrong to want to find a man who will respect me, if I can’t have one who will love me?”

            “Of course not,” her handmaid agreed. “Your mother is right that most of the other rulers will respect your husband more than you because you are a woman. It would make sense then to marry someone who will respect you enough to be sure to advance your agenda rather than overrule you and do whatever it is he wants.”

            Regina smiled. It was one of the many reasons she loved Tink—she had a unique way of seeing things and finding how Regina’s beliefs were usually logical and correct. “That is true. Too bad that will likely never happen.”

            Something poked her eye and she blinked rapidly, trying to wash it out. “Oww, what is that?”

            “Oh, I think you have a lash in your eye. Hold still.” Tink held open her eye before brushing something away. She held up her finger, a curled black lash sitting there. “Make a wish and then blow.”

            Regina gave her a look. “Isn’t that a bit superstitious?”

            “Maybe,” Tink agreed, grinning. “What’s the harm, though?”

            Unable to argue that, Regina smiled and closed her eyes. She wished for a husband who was intelligent, kind, compassionate, and who respected her. Perhaps one who could come to love her and she him. Regina let out a soft puff of air and opened her eyes to see the lash was gone.

            “There. Now, let’s just comb out your hair. Turn around,” Tink said, picking up the comb.

            Regina did as she said, feeling as Tink worked out the knots that had formed in her hair while dancing. Knowing that the maids in the palace knew almost everything, she asked: “What do you know about Magistrate Nottingham and his son?”

            Tink’s hand paused before she answered: “I know he’s a shrewd and ambitious man and his son is essentially a snake with legs.”

            “Oh,” Regina frowned. “Do they have a title?”

            “No, but they’ve been overseeing the Locksley lands since the baron’s tragic death a few years ago,” Tink said.

            Regina knew what she was talking about. Though she had only been ten at the time, she recalled how sad her father had been. Apparently he had counted Baron Locksley as a dear friend and had respected the man’s beliefs, which she recalled her mother deriding as romantic and impractical. She couldn’t recall if they discussed what his beliefs had been, just that both Daddy and Mother agreed it had probably led to him being killed. There had also been talk about him having a son who was older than Regina, old enough to take over his father’s lands but who hadn’t been seen since the fire had destroyed the Locksley family home. Most people, including her mother, believed he must’ve perished amongst the flames. A few others, like her father, believed he may not have been home at the time or else he would’ve helped his father fight off the attackers. They believed that he was out there though they didn’t know why he didn’t come to claim his birthright.

            For her part, Regina didn’t know what to believe. She hardly knew Baron Locksley or his son but hoped he had survived. No one deserved such a horrible death. If he was alive, she hoped he was living a good and happy life—faraway from her. She had enough men pursuing her as it was.

            The comb fell away from Regina’s hair. “You’re ready. You best hurry before your mother sends someone to find you.”

            With a deep breath, Regina hurried away from Tink and started the short trip to the throne room. She knew the sooner she made an appearance, the sooner she could determine how much of a snake Magistrate Nottingham’s son truly was and the sooner she could escape.

            How she wished this could all be over now. The ball could not come soon enough.

* * *

            Several days before the ball, Robin thanked Granny and her granddaughter Red for all their help before mounting his horse. Will and Little John sat on theirs, ready to accompany him to a small town closer to the palace. Tuck had sent for them, saying he had prepared a safe house for them to stay at in preparation for the ball.

            Despite riding hard and taking few rests, they still arrived with only a day until the ball. The safe house belonged to a carpenter and toy maker named Geppetto, who welcomed the three men warmly and offered them some food. As they ate, Tuck arrived with a package.

            “What is that?” Robin asked, looking up from his stew.

            Tuck smiled, motioning for them to clear the table. After they reluctantly did so, he laid the package down and undid the twine holding it closed. He pulled back the paper to reveal clothing inside. “An outfit fit for a baron to wear to a royal ball,” he said.

            Robin lifted a white silk shirt with buttons that appeared to be gold, marveling at it. There was also a pair of brown breeches, silk stockings, a green waistcoat and a matching vest made of satin brocade. All were finely made and Robin’s stomach clenched as he asked: “How much did this cost you?”

            “It doesn’t matter,” Tuck said, waving him off. “All that matters is that you are dressed appropriately. We’ll need to really polish your boots but I believe they will do.”

            “Tuck,” Robin said, putting a warning tone into his voice.

            His mentor and friend clapped him on the shoulder. “There was a spare chalice I could part with. It fetched more than enough to pay for this.”

            “I owe you,” Robin told him. “When I have my lands back and as soon as I can, I shall buy another chalice for you.”

            Tuck waved him off again. “I still have a perfectly good one. Now, you should get plenty of rest. Tomorrow is a very big day.”

            His nerves firing inside him, Robin knew it was true. Tomorrow could change everything…just as long as he didn’t mess anything up.

* * *

            Robin’s preparations for the ball began early in the morning. Tuck had Will and Little John carry a tub into Geppetto’s house and then filled it with water heated over the fire in the kitchen. He had Robin strip and climb into the bath, using a sweet-smelling soap to wash Robin’s blond hair and clean his skin from dirt and grime. Tuck made sure to scrub Robin’s nails until they was not a fleck of dirt on them.

            Once Robin was clean enough, Geppetto loaned him a clean shirt to wear while Tuck polished his boots and laid out his clothes. Robin ate some cold meat and fruit for his midday meal, waiting for the right time to dress for the ball.

            Will rushed in from dumping the bath water, a pale look on his face. “Sheriff Nottingham is here! He’s banging on doors.”

            “What? Why?” Robin asked, tensing up. “This isn’t his territory.”

            “It doesn’t matter. You need to hide,” Tuck said, raising a trap door in the floor. It led to a storage area. “Climb in here and don’t make a sound.”

            Robin jumped down into the area with Will and Little John, watching as the door closed. He heard Tuck and Geppetto drag something—no doubt the table—as someone pounded on the door.

            “Friar Tuck! What are you doing so far from your flock?” Robin heard Nottingham ask.

            “Geppetto is an old friend,” Tuck lied. “I’ve come to visit him.”

            Robin listened as Nottingham walked around, continuing to speak. “There was a rumor that Robin Hood’s familiar green cloak was spotted near this town. You wouldn’t happen to know anything of that, would you?”

            “No, I do not. I do not know why Robin Hood would even be here,” Tuck said.

            “You don’t? I do. The ball certainly would be a very big and grand job for him. Imagine all the riches he could steal,” Nottingham replied.

            “I do not know the man but I doubt Robin Hood would be so foolish as to rob the royal family on a night when there will be so many guards around.”

            “Perhaps, but it no doubt is too good to pass up.” Nottingham’s steps had been circling the room, no doubt trying to find any hint of Robin. His voice went up as he asked: “Now, these are certainly very fine clothes for a man of the cloth and a simple toymaker. Who are they for?”

            “Someone generously donated them for me to sell to raise money for my flock,” Tuck lied.

            Robin heard Nottingham hum. “These look brand new. I doubt anyone would be that generous. These are probably stolen goods. I am going to confiscate them.”

            “You can’t do that!” Tuck protested. “You have no jurisdiction here!”

            “I have jurisdiction over you!” Nottingham barked. “I know you are working with Robin Hood, no matter how many times you protest otherwise. Tell him he would be a fool to try anything tonight.”

            Nottingham’s boots thudded overhead before the door slammed behind him. Robin’s spirits sank as the trap door opened, allowing him to climb out of the storage space. “Now what?” he asked a stricken Tuck.

            “I don’t know,” his friend answered. “Your regular clothes won’t pass inspection. Even with the invitation, no one will believe you are a baron.”

            “Maybe we can steal them back from Nottingham?” Will suggested.

            Little John shook his head. “It won’t work. Guards are everywhere. We’d never get close enough.”

            “I’ve failed my people,” Robin said bitterly. “Undone by Nottingham.”

            “Hope is not lost yet,” a soft feminine voice said. Robin frowned, looking around for who said that. He noticed a small ball of green light floating around the cottage. It slowly descended before expanding, briefly blinding him.

            When it died down, a petit woman with blonde hair pulled into a high bun stood in front of him. She wore a green dress with a short but puffed out skirt that seemed to glimmer with her every movement. Cap sleeves covered her shoulders and translucent wings sprouted from her back.

            “It’s…It’s a fairy!” Geppetto exclaimed, awestruck.

            She chuckled, her laugh like tinkling bells. “I am. And I am here to help you, Robin of Locksley.”

            He gaped at her. “You know who I am?”

            “I do,” she said. “I know you are an honorable man who works tirelessly to help those who cannot help themselves. I also know you want to go to the ball to ask the princess to help your people. I can think of no one more deserving to go to the ball.”

            “But Sheriff Nottingham just stole my clothes,” he pointed out.

            She nodded, raising her hand and pulling a thin white wand from the air. “Then I shall make you an outfit fit for a prince. We need to be quick, though. The ball begins soon and you don’t want to keep the princess waiting.”

            Robin smiled. He was getting help from a fairy and would be able to attend the ball after all.

            Perhaps there was still hope for his people after all.


	4. Ten Minutes Ago

### Chapter 4: Ten Minutes Ago

            Robin stood in front of a mirror the fairy had conjured up, gaping at his reflection. He hardly recognized himself now that he was dressed in finery that put even the lavish outfit Tuck had gotten for him to shame.

            He still wore his white linen shirt against his skin, its collar poking out and surrounding his neck as the ruffles of its sleeves covered his wrists. Over that was a gray satin coat, though the only part visible of it were the sleeves with its lattice pattern as he also wore a silver brocade overcoat. Jewel encrusted buttons lined the center of it, two per row. He also wore dark gray pants and his black boots were so shiny, they appeared new. The finishing touch was a cape that covered his right shoulder and was strapped around his chest and under his left arm. It was made of dark gray velvet material and capped by soft brown fur—bear fur, he believed.

            “There,” the fairy said, smiling as she leaned past him to admire his reflection as well. “Fit for a prince, just like I said.”

            “Looks like Robin is ready for the ball,” Little John said, grinning.

            The fairy shook her head, turning away from the mirror. She held up her wand. “Not yet. Now it’s your turn.”

            Will frowned. “We’re not noblemen like Robin, nor do we have invitations.”

            “Noblemen like Robin don’t travel alone,” she replied. “He’s going to need a driver and a valet.”

            They looked at each other before Will scowled. “So we’re expected to stand around and watch him eat and dance the night away?”

            She shook her head. “All the servants will be invited to share a meal and drink plenty of spirits in one of the kitchens.”

            Little John and Will perked up while Tuck clapped his hands, smiling. “The servants know everything.”

            “So?” Will asked, confused.

            “You can do reconnaissance. Find out whatever you can about their lords. Maybe you can find the man who killed my father,” Robin said, hope spreading through him. “Enjoy yourselves, lads, but not too much. Keep your wits—like you were gathering information about a job.”

            Little John smiled. “I can do that.”

            “We can do that,” Will corrected him. He then looked at the fairy. “So what do you need me to do?”

            “Just stand there,” she said, waving her wand. A burst of green light pulsated from it, engulfing Will and Little John. When it died down, they stood there in light green coats and dark pants—looking better than the average peasant but they certainly weren’t going to be mistaken for nobles.

            The fairy nodded at her handiwork before turning back to Robin. “Now, I trust you have a carriage?”

            He grew sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. “I do not. I thought I would just ride my horse to the palace.”

            “Absolutely not,” she admonished. “While many noblemen know how to ride horses, they wouldn’t want to appear before the princess smelling of horse.”

            “Does the princess not like horses?” he asked.

            She frowned. “She loves horses, especially her own stallion…but that’s not the point.”

            Robin filed that tidbit about the princess away as he nodded. “This is about the fact that if I come in smelling like horse, I’ll be mistaken for the help rather than the nobleman I am.”

            “Oh good,” she said, sounding relieved. “You get it.”

             She looked around before picking up a toy carriage. Holding it up, she asked Geppetto: “May I borrow this?”

            “Yes, of course,” he said, nodding.

            “Wonderful,” she replied. “Everyone, let’s head outside.”

            She walked out the door and they all followed her, forming a strange parade. The sun was setting and a chill filled the air. Robin was glad for the heavy cape he wore as he watched the fairy continue to perform her magic.

            “I need your horses,” she said. “Can you get them?”

            “We’ve got it,” Little John said, motioning for Will to follow him. They disappeared behind the house, heading to the stables.

            Robin turned his attention to the fairy. “Thank you again for all your help.”

            She smiled, laying her hand on his arm. “You deserve it for all the hard work you’ve done for your people.”

            “It doesn’t feel like enough,” he said, sighing. “That’s why I’m going to the ball. I want to ask the princess for her help.”

            The fairy looked surprised. “You’re not going to win her hand?”

            He shook his head. “She deserves to be treated as a person and get a chance to find the person she wants to spend the rest of her life with, not be some prize to be given to the most pretentious noble in the room.”

            “You’re right,” she agreed. “Princess Regina deserves someone who shares her values and beliefs, who will be her partner and her lover.”

            Little John and Will returned with all three of their horses. Robin’s walked over to him, gently nudging him for a snack. Laughing, Robin shook his head. “Not yet. You’ll get a treat when the night is over,” he told the horse.

            “Lead them over here,” the fairy instructed, pointing to the middle of the road. Once they were in place, she pulled out her wand again. “Here we go!”

            She waved her wand over the toy carriage. It floated up in the air and over the horses. Little John and Will moved as it started to grow in the air, eventually settling on the ground fully formed. The carriage was dark brown with a green velvet curtain covering the window, matching the cushioned seat for the driver. All three horses were attached to the carriage, ready to head to the palace.

            “Perfect,” the fairy said, admiring her handiwork as she walked around the carriage. She smiled at Robin. “You definitely arrive in style now.”

            “Yeah,” he replied, awed and still slightly shocked about his turn of fortune.

            She took his hand, making sure she had his attention. “Now, before you go, I want to give you advice and a warning.

            “If you want the princess to help you, you need to be genuine,” she told him. “Flattery will get you nowhere. Princess Regina is very good at knowing when people are being disingenuous and are just trying to flatter her because they want something. So be yourself and just tell her your truth.”

            He nodded, taking her words to heart. Robin was going to be more comfortable being himself rather than what everyone else expected him to be. It made him respect the princess and bolstered his hopes that she would help him.

            “And now, your warning—my magic will only last until midnight. If you don’t want to be caught almost stark naked by the princess or anyone else, you will need to leave the ball and return here before the clock chimes twelve times,” she said. “Do you understand?”

            “I do,” he said. “The clock chimed six times, meaning I will get to the palace around the time it strikes seven. That is plenty of time.”

            She nodded, opening the door to his carriage. “Then you best be on your way.”

            “Is there anything I can do to repay you?” he asked, wanting to show her how grateful he was for her help.

            Her smile grew brighter. “I’m glad you asked. The king is throwing this ball for the princess’ birthday. All he wants is for her to enjoy herself. Her mother, the queen, has probably never focused on her daughter’s happiness and just sees this as a chance to find the princess a husband who meets _her_ standards, not Princess Regina’s. Which means she’ll make certain Regina won’t have any fun. Please let her have some fun and enjoy herself. Please.”

            Robin’s heart hurt at the thought of the princess being miserable during a ball meant to celebrate her. He nodded. “I will do my best.”

            “Thank you.” The fairy motioned to the inside of the carriage. “Now go! And remember, you only have until midnight.”

            He nodded, climbing in. Will followed suit, sitting across from him as the fairy closed the door. Robin glanced out the window, waving as the carriage rolled forward. Tuck, Geppetto and the fairy waved back.

            Settling back against the soft cushioned seat, Robin took a deep breath. “Here we go. Time to impress the princess.”

* * *

            Regina hated the ball. She hadn’t expected to enjoy herself, despite Daddy’s insistence that she would, but the first hour wasn’t even over and she wanted nothing more to do with the whole affair. Unfortunately, since she was the guest of honor, she couldn’t fake a headache and leave. She was stuck there for another five more hours at the very least, seven at the most.

            “Smile, Regina,” Mother hissed. “You look like you’re being tortured.”

            “Because I am,” she hissed back. Still, she forced a smile to her face as another man approached her. He appeared to be closer in age to her father than her and the hungry look he gave her as he bowed unnerved her. It was almost as if she were standing in front of him naked rather than the splendent dress Mother had designed for her that was the opposite of everything she would want in a dress. It was made of satin brocade with ermine around the cuffs and hem of her skirt. The neckline was cut lower than Regina was comfortable with and she hadn’t failed to notice that Mother had sent her own personal maid in to dress Regina, ensuring that her corset was cinched tighter than Tink usually tied it. It should’ve been no surprise that none of the men had made eye contact with her, their gaze firmly fixed on her breasts.

            Worst of all, though, was the fact that it was _pink_.

            She hated the color.

            The man old enough to be her father walked away and Regina shifted from one foot to another. She knew Mother had purposefully ordered her shoes to be made a size too small, constantly worrying that men would be turned off by what she considered Regina’s large feet—even though the cobbler himself had assured Mother that Regina’s feet were smaller than most women. Her paranoia meant that Regina had already lost feeling in her toes and she started to worry that her heels were bleeding from the way the shoes were digging into them.

            “Are you in pain, my darling?” Daddy asked, frowning in concern as he motioned for the herald to stop presenting guests for a moment.

            Mother jumped in. “She’s just being dramatic, Henry. Now, let’s not make a scene in front of our guests. We don’t want to waste their time.”

            “This ball is to celebrate her. If she’s uncomfortable or in pain, they can wait as long as we deem fit until she’s fine!” Anger colored Daddy’s words and it seemed he was holding firm in his desire for this ball to be all about Regina.

            However, Regina knew how this always played out. Daddy would try to stand up to Mother but in the end bend to her will. She didn’t want to deal with that argument so she sighed and shook her head. “No pain but I may need to sit soon. The dress is a bit heavy for my delicate frame.”

            “Then we should let them continue presenting the guests to you so we can get you to a chair,” Mother said, a warning in her tone. Daddy waved for the herald to continue and Regina once again forced a smile on her face as she greeted even more men who didn’t look her in the eye.

            By the time the last one bowed to her, she felt ready to go to bed and sleep the rest of the night away. She must’ve swayed on her feet as Daddy took her arm. “We should get you to a chair,” he said.

            Relieved, Regina started to turn to walk away with him. Movement on the grand staircase caught her eye and she stopped, looking back toward it. A latecomer raced down the stairs and for the first time all evening, Regina found herself transfixed by one of her guests. His silver coat shimmered in the candlelight illuminating the ballroom and his blond hair seemed almost like gold, an intriguing combination. Blond scruff covered his cheeks and chin, a change from all the clean-shaven faces surrounding her. Most men, though, couldn’t pull off the look—but this guest certainly could.  He carried himself with an air of confidence, not arrogance, and she wondered if he was a leader of some sort. She found she wanted to know who he was, even if she knew he was probably going to disappoint her in the end.

            She watched as he reached the bottom of the grand staircase and removed his invitation from inside his coat, handing it to the herald. His eyes scanned the crowd until he found her. When his eyes locked onto her, Regina forgot how to breathe. Time stopped and everything else fell away. Only she and him existed as he approached, his eyes never leaving her. Eyes that were as blue as the sky she learned when he stopped in front of her.

            “Presenting Lord Robert, Baron Locksley,” the herald intoned, presenting the man to her.

            Regina’s eyes widened as she processed his name. Lord Robert bowed and when he rose, his eyes immediately went to hers again. It was refreshing that he wasn’t staring at her breasts like the others.

            “I wish you the happiest of birthdays,” he said softly, which also surprised her. None of the other guests had wished her a happy birthday. Instead, they all made similar comments about her beauty.

            “Thank you,” she replied just as softly. “I’m…I’m surprised, Lord Robert. We sent an invitation to Locksley but didn’t expect anyone to show up. Not since…”

            “My father died,” he said flatly.

            She nodded, feeling guilty when she saw the pain and sadness in his eyes. “We took you for dead too.”

            “That was the plan,” he replied, confusing her. What plan was he talking about?

            “Regina? Sweetheart, are you coming?” Daddy called out, no doubt worried that she hadn’t moved.

            She glanced back at him before looking at Lord Robert again. Raising her hand to him, she smiled. “Save me a dance?”

            “I will,” he promised, taking her hand. He brushed his lips against her knuckles, sending a jolt coursing through her. Releasing her hand, he backed away and disappeared into the crowd.

            Daddy approached her. “Regina? Is something wrong?”

            She wanted to tell him that his friend’s son had been found, that the new Baron Locksley was there, but something kept her from doing so. Instead, she just smiled. “There was a latecomer I greeted. It would’ve been rude.”

            Mother appeared next to Daddy, sniffing. “He was rude for being late.”

            “He wasn’t that late,” Regina protested, wanting to defend him. “Perhaps he had an issue with a horse or his carriage?”

            “Whoever it was didn’t make a big entrance, so he didn’t plan to be purposefully late,” Daddy added.

            Mother sighed, nodding. “Fair enough. I guess we can give him the benefit of the doubt. Tell me, Regina, what title does he hold?”

            “Baron,” she replied, still leaving out the fact he was from Locksley. Something in her gut told her that it was too dangerous to reveal that information—especially to her mother, though she wasn’t certain why.  

            “Just a baron?” Mother sighed. “Well, at least he had a title. Certainly puts him up there for marriage.”

            Daddy shook his head. “This isn’t about marriage, Cora. This is about Regina. Who I believe still needs to sit. Right?”

            Regina was surprised to realize that she hadn’t thought about how much her feet hurt since she met Lord Robert. The pain, though, returned and she nodded. “Yes, please.”

            “Come on,” he said, offering her his arm this time. She took it and they headed toward the thrones, promising her some respite from the pain in her feet. It also promised her a good view of the ballroom, allowing her to see everyone attending.

            Including Lord Robert, Baron Locksley.

* * *

            After meeting Princess Regina, Robin stumbled off to find a place where he could collect himself again. He accepted a glass of wine from a servant as he discovered an empty corner shrouded in shadows. Robin headed over there, pressing his back against the wall as he waited for his heart to slow down.

            Many had spoken of the princess’ beauty before but he believed they hadn’t done her true justice. Or rather, they had focused on the wrong part of her beauty. Yes, she had gorgeous black curls that looked like they were made of silk. And she had a petite and lithe frame, one that many noblemen were raised to covet in their future brides.

            Robin, though, had paid more attention to her eyes. Once they had met, he barely noticed anything else. They were a beautiful shade of brown and within those chocolate pools, he believed he saw her very heart. She had been surprised about his sudden reappearance but it was a pleased one, he could tell. Her eyes told him that she was full of compassion and kindness, someone who he believed would be willing to help him.

            If he remembered to ask her for help. Maybe it was because the fairy had told him that the princess was not looking forward to the ball or maybe it had been the air of sadness that seemed to engulf her, but Robin wanted nothing more now than to make certain she had fun. Even if it meant taking her hand and running away with her, bringing her somewhere else. All he wanted to do was to see her smile—a beaming smile born of genuine happiness.

            He took a gulp of his wine while he was still hidden in shadows, hoping it calmed his nerves. Robin still wasn’t here to marry the princess but he now believed that maybe Tuck had been right—maybe he shouldn’t discount the possibility that he could fall in love with the princess. And judging by their brief encounter, he believed she could fall in love with him too.

            _First, get your lands back and save your people_ , he told himself. _Then you can focus on wooing the princess._

            Robin took a deep breath before he stepped out into the shadows. It was time to mix with the others and see if he could get any information about who killed his father as they enjoyed the meal laid out for them. And then he could enjoy dancing with the princess as the night wore on.

            His eyes sought her out and he found her sitting on her throne. She looked around the room, watching as everyone mingled and talked. Her eyes met his again and she gave him a soft smile. Robin returned it, feeling a bit more confident.

            He could do this.

* * *

            “Your Highness.” Regina bristled at Keith Nottingham’s smug tone as he interrupted her meal. Couldn’t she have a moment of peace?

            She set her spoon down and wiped her mouth before looking up at him. “Sheriff,” she greeted, keeping her tone clipped.

            “Regina,” Mother hissed from beside her. “Where are your manners?”

            Where were _her_ manners? Keith was the one interrupting her meal, yet Regina had to make nice with _him_? Life wasn’t fair and didn’t make much sense to her. So forcing a smile onto her face, she asked: “Are you enjoying the ball?”

            “I am,” he replied, smirking. “Though I haven’t spent much time with you.”

            “I was greeting my guests. I want to spend time with everyone,” she lied. There was only one guest she wanted to spend time with—Lord Robert. She couldn’t even see him at the table as everyone ate and wished she had been able to seat him closer to her.

            Mother gripped her arm as she leaned past Regina. “Why don’t you sit down?” she asked in a sweet tone.

            She motioned to an empty chair that had just appeared next to Regina. It took all her willpower not to scowl as she realized her mother was setting this all up. For some reason, Mother liked Sheriff Nottingham and didn’t care that Regina didn’t want anything to do with him.

            He sat down and leaned closer to Regina. “Are you looking forward to the dancing, Princess?”

            “She is,” Mother replied. She smiled at Regina. “She is an excellent dancer.”

            Regina shot her mother a wide-eyed look. How could she say that after yelling at Regina all week for not being a great dancer? Why would she set her up for such an embarrassing moment in public?

            “Then I hope to share a few dances with you,” Keith said, taking Regina’s hand. He brushed his lips against her knuckles as he stared at her like he wanted to eat her. It made her stomach turn but not in the exciting way Lord Robert’s gaze had.

            She pulled her hand back, lowering it to her lap in order to discreetly wipe it on her skirt. “I can save you a dance, Keith, but I cannot promise more than one. There are many guests I must dance with tonight,” she said.

            Mother pinched her arm, causing Regina to jump. She, though, kept a smile on her face. “The princess will be honored to dance with you as often as you want.”

            “I look forward to it.” Keith stood and gave a little bow. “Until then, my princess.”

            “Until then,” she replied, gritting her teeth as she smiled at him.

            Once he walked away, Mother pinched her again. Regina jumped, exclaiming: “OW!”

            “Regina? What’s wrong?” Daddy asked, turning from his conversation with some duke or earl. He frowned.

            “She’s being stubborn,” Mother answered.

            Regina shot her a look. “I don’t like Keith Nottingham and I don’t even want to share one dance with him, let alone multiple ones.”

            “You barely know him. This will be a chance to get to know him,” Mother said sweetly.

            Daddy’s frown deepened. “This isn’t to set Regina up with anyone, Cora. This is about her having fun.”

            Mother rolled her eyes. “She can have fun and get to know Keith Nottingham better. He may not have a title—yet—but I can tell he is of good stock.”

            “I don’t like him,” Regina said. “He’s too…fake. Like he’s trying too hard and not showing me the real him.”

            “No one shows each other the real them until after they are married,” Mother replied.

            “And then you are stuck,” Daddy said under his breath. Mother shot him a look as Regina grew uncomfortable. She knew her parents’ marriage wasn’t the happiest of unions and she certainly wouldn’t call it a love match but it was still weird to hear one of them admit it, even if the confession was muttered.

            After clearing his throat, Daddy said louder: “I don’t like him either.”

            “You don’t like him because his father is looking over Locksley’s lands,” Mother replied, making Regina’s heart skip when she mentioned Robert’s home. “You think it’s somehow disrespectful to your friend.”

            “It’s not that I think it’s disrespectful. I don’t think Roland would’ve wanted someone like Arnold Nottingham caring for his lands and people. He doesn’t have their best interest at heart,” Daddy replied.

            Mother rolled her eyes. “Because looking after his people’s lands worked so well for Roland.”

            “I still don’t think his people revolted and killed him!” Daddy protested.

            Regina filed that away and decided to ask Robert his opinion later. She finally spotted him as he stood to grab another glass of wine from a passing servant. He looked tense and she wondered how comfortable he was in their world since he never entered it properly. She longed to let him sit next to her but she knew Mother would never allow it.

            She also didn’t want to her parents to know about him. Mother would probably scare him off and Daddy would want to talk about his father. Regina just wanted him to herself. She wouldn’t mind dancing with him all night long.

            As long as she didn’t crush his toes in the process and scare him off herself.

            “Regina? Are you listening to me?” Mother asked her, glaring at her.

            She swallowed, knowing she would have to admit she wasn’t. “I’m sorry, Mother. What did you say?”

            “I said that you will dance at least once with Keith, just to honor him and his father,” Mother said, annoyed that she had to repeat herself.

            Regina nodded. “I will dance with him once.”

            “Good. I think he would be a perfect partner for the waltz,” Mother replied, studying the man where he sat.

            “The waltz?” Regina felt the color drain from her face as she grew cold recalling her disastrous practices. “Do you think that’s wise?”

            Mother nodded. “I think you will do well with the waltz with the right partner.”

            “What if he’s not the right one though?”

            “I think you might be pleasantly surprised,” Mother replied. Her tone told Regina that the conversation was over.

            She did her best not to sigh as she sought out Robert again. He had returned to his seat but she felt better knowing he was there. Regina wondered if Mother was right about her just needing the right partner to dance the waltz. Would Robert be the right partner? Maybe the dancing part of the night wouldn’t be a complete waste.

* * *

            Robin barely made it through the meal. He was surrounded by people who had the inanest conversations he had ever heard. Most of it was gossip—who had to keep wives from discovering mistresses, who was living beyond their means, and more. Robin was certain he knew every supposed “dolt, louse and cuckhold” in the entire kingdom after listening to that chatter. Those who weren’t gossiping were complaining about their tenants and the peasants, insulting them every chance they got. He almost stabbed himself to keep from laying into them and defending their poor tenants.

            The last thing he needed to do was draw attention to himself. He didn’t want to become his father’s killer’s next target or worse, thrown out of the ball before he could dance with the princess. Not because he wanted to plead for her help but because he wanted to look in her eyes and watch them sparkle when she smiled.

            He just wanted to make her smile.

            Robin glanced toward where he knew the head of the table was. His seat was so far back, he could barely see the princess—only the pink of her dress and the sparkle of her jewels let him know where she was. As he tried to ignore the conversations around him, he wondered what she was doing. Was she enjoying herself? Or was she being forced to listen to the same mindless chatter he was and hated it just as much as he did? Did she wish she was somewhere else?

            “Don’t look now,” the baron sitting to Robin’s left said. “Here comes Keith, Sheriff of Nottingham.”

            Robin’s heart sped up as he looked over to see Keith walking toward his end of the table. Though it was more like he was strutting past the table as if lording something over those who were his superiors in the class system of Mist Haven. He wondered what it was that had Keith looking so haughty.

            “The Nottinghams are a favorite of the queen’s,” another baron explained, somewhat disdainfully. “I’ve heard that this ball may be all for naught. Queen Cora wants the princess to marry him.”

            “But he has no title!” a horrified baroness exclaimed. “Nor any land to call his own!”

            Robin narrowed his eyes as he followed Keith, who was now loudly bragging that he was going to dance the most with the princess. He talked about her as if she was some trophy to be one rather than a person who deserved love and respect.

            “I heard he and his father are trying to get Locksley’s land,” the baron next to him said.

            That intrigued Robin and he lifted his head, trying to act nonchalant as he asked: “Is that so?”

            “Oh, yes,” the man continued. “They haven’t been very subtle about it.”

            “Why should they be? Lord Roland has been dead for eight years now and no one has seen his son. It is likely that he perished in the fire,” another baron said. “Those lands need someone to tend to them, the tenants need protection. Why shouldn’t the Nottinghams seize their chance?”

            A third baron sniffed as he held his goblet aloft, his cheeks red. “Because try as they might, they’ll never be one of us. Their blood will always be…tainted.”

            Robin fought the urge to roll his eyes at that, knowing that everyone’s blood was the same—red. He needed more information and couldn’t afford to start a fight. For years, he thought the Nottinghams were working for someone. Now, though, he wondered if they were just working for themselves. “I know the Nottinghams are responsible for collecting taxes for the Locksley lands,” he said. “Who do they give them to?”

            “Directly to the king and queen,” the second baron replied.

            “There’s no intermediary?” Robin asked, surprised. When the other barons shook their heads, his uneasy feeling grew.

            The first baron continued, sniffing as he said: “I hear that the amount Nottingham gives their majesties is far lower than the amount Locksley used to give. The tenants have grown lazy without a lord.”

            Clenching his teeth, Robin fought his anger and tried to keep his voice even as he remarked: “That’s interesting. I heard Nottingham collects weekly from them.”

            “Who did you hear that from?” the second baron asked him.

            “A family friend is a friar who administers to the Locksley tenants,” Robin said, telling the truth though keeping everything vague. “He told me.”

            That satisfied them and the second baron asked: “Then why can’t Nottingham fulfill the pledge to the king?”

            Robin had his suspicions but he decided to just shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

            “This gives me much to think over,” the first baron said, stroking his chin. “Thank you.”

            “It gives me a lot to think about as well. So I thank you,” Robin replied, sipping his wine as dark thoughts filled his mind. One rose to the forefront:

            Had the Nottinghams killed his father?

* * *

            The servants cleared away the plates and Mother leaned over. “It’s time for the dancing to begin, Regina. Please invite our guests to join us in the ballroom.”

            “Yes, Mother,” Regina said, rising as Daddy tapped a knife against a glass to get their attention. Putting on her best smile, she said: “Please follow me into the ballroom for the dancing.”

            Everyone rose as well and waited as she stepped down from the dais. Daddy appeared at her side, holding out his arm to her. She looped her arm through his, grateful for his presence.

            “I think Keith Nottingham should escort her in,” Mother said, stepping off the dais as well.

            Regina tensed up as she glanced toward Keith, who was smirking as he watched her. Mother had no doubt already promised him the chance to escort her into the ballroom. Probably also promised him the first dance too. Regina wondered if Mother would make certain that he was the only person she danced with the entire night. As she caught sight of Lord Robert, she hoped that wasn’t the case.

            “Keith Nottingham is not her betrothed,” Daddy said coldly. “Etiquette demands I escort her in.”

            “Henry, isn’t this about celebrating Regina?” Mother asked pleasantly. “Don’t you want Keith to escort you in, Regina?”

            Regina held her head high as she took her chance. “No.”

            Mother’s lips parted and it sent a thrill through Regina. She realized her mother expected her to bow to her desire and agree to let Keith walk her in. Not on this night, though. This newfound bravery probably wasn’t going to last so she was going to enjoy it while it did.

            Daddy patted her hand. “Then I shall escort her in, Cora.”

            “You still will dance with Keith,” Mother ordered her, seething.

            Regina sighed. “Yes, Mother. I will dance him. I will dance with everyone.”

            “Well, you can’t dance with anyone if we keep standing here,” Daddy said, moving forward with her. It forced Mother to follow them and Regina bowed her head, smiling a bit.

            They entered the ballroom and Daddy brought her right to the center of the floor. He placed his hand on her waist as he took her other hand in his free one. She panicked a bit. “I’m not very good at the waltz, Daddy,” she whispered to him.

            “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he whispered back. “I’ve got you.”

            She nodded and the music started. Daddy began moving and she followed his lead, her heart pounding in her chest the entire time. Regina was certain she was about to make a fool of herself and scare off any potential dance partners. After all, no one wanted their toes crushed by an incompetent dancer like her.

            “Relax, Regina,” Daddy whispered. “It’s just a dance.”

            “Not if you ask Mother,” she whispered back. “Then it’s the most important thing that will determine my suitability to be a wife.”

            He sighed, shaking his head. “Just have fun, sweetheart.”

            “I don’t think I know how to do that,” she admitted sadly as they started the dance.

            Daddy had no response to that.

            Instead, he led her around the ballroom slowly so that she could focus on her steps rather than trying to keep up. She knew she stepped on his feet a few times but he never winced. He also held her tighter so she didn’t lose her footing in front of all the eligible bachelors in the kingdom. She was grateful for him but knew it was only a matter of time before they all knew she was a disaster on the dancefloor.

            The song ended and Daddy stepped away from her, bowing. She curtsied in response, her heart pounding in her chest. As she rose up, she noticed Mother standing next to Keith and knew that she was about to push him forward so Regina could share the next dance with him.

            “How about a lively reel?” Daddy suggested loudly. He clapped his hand and the musicians obeyed his command, playing something upbeat.

            He leaned over kissing Regina’s cheek. “You’re welcome,” he whispered.

            Realizing that he had specifically called for that dance to delay her waltz with Keith, she grinned and squeezed his hands. “Thank you.”

            Daddy walked away as Regina fell into step with a quartet made up of two dukes, one of whom was married and so was paired with his wife. All were familiar with the dance and Regina was able to dance with ease with them, moving her arms at the correct time and stepping on the beat. It was a welcome relief from worrying about the waltz.

            As another reel started up and Regina moved a different group, she caught sight of Robert. He was a few groups over, pairing with the daughter of a duke who seemed quite taken with the young baron. She batted her eyes more and seemed to find any reason to touch him. Robert appeared to be polite but not overly flirtatious with her, but Regina still couldn’t help the jealousy rising inside her. She resisted the urge to storm over and pull him from the young woman, not wanting to draw her mother’s attention to him. Mother wanted Regina to focus on Keith and she didn’t want to know what the queen would do to anyone who got in the way.

            She forced herself to stay with her current partners, finishing out the dance. And she resisted her urge to partner with him for the next few dances, though she noticed that the young courtier followed him. Jealousy swelled inside her and she clamped down on it, knowing she had no right to feel that way and that it was dangerous to do so.

            As she finished another reel, she noticed Mother talking with the orchestra. Her heart sank, knowing it was time for her to dance with Keith. She looked for any reason to put it off but she knew Mother wouldn’t accept any excuses. It was time to face the music—literally.

            Keith approached her, holding out his hand as he bowed to her. “May I have this dance, Regina?”

            “You may,” she said, forcing a smile even though she was less than pleased with how familiar he dared to be with her.

            He took her hand and the music started up. She tried to relax as they began dancing but only a few steps in, she stepped on his toes. Keith kissed and she blanched, muttering her apologies. He shook his head. “It’s fine.”

            Letting out the breath she was holding, Regina started to believe that maybe she had been worried for nothing. Perhaps Keith would be more understanding and a better partner than she had thought. She started to relax a little as he spun her out and then spun her back toward him again.

            Regina hit into him harder than she meant to and her elbow went straight into his stomach. He let out a gasp as he doubled over, moaning in pain. She looked back to check on him and accidentally stepped on his foot in the process. “I’m sorry!”

            “Do you have two left feet?” he hissed, glaring at her. “I thought princesses were supposed to be graceful.”

            They had stopped dancing and were now drawing the attention of other couples on the floor. Whispers reached her ears as the music died down, everyone waiting to see what she and Keith did next. Regina caught sight of her mother’s disappointed look and only had one reaction.

            She ran.

* * *

            Robin had been biding his time, waiting for a waltz so he could have some private time with the princess. He even put up with the daughter of a duke who was infatuated with him and no doubt hoped to steal his attention from Princess Regina, unaware of why he needed to dance with the royal.

            (And unaware that she didn’t hold a candle to the princess in beauty or personality).

            When the music changed to one for a waltz, hope had filled him. He wondered if this was his chance…until he saw Keith approach Regina as the Queen watched on. Robin recalled the gossip that Queen Cora hoped to make a match between Keith and her daughter despite his lack of title and knew this was not his chance. He excused himself and stood on the edge of the dance floor with the others, watching as Keith danced with Princess Regina.

            He tried to remind himself that his opportunity would come but he couldn’t help but feel jealous, realizing that he didn’t want to just dance with Regina to talk with her. He wanted to hold her in his arms and make her smile rather than the tense grimace she bore now as she struggled to keep up with Keith. _Bastard should be leading her and making her look good, not just focused on himself and how he looks_ , Robin thought.

            When Keith spun her, Robin realized she was going too fast. He winced as she hit into Keith, watching as the other man bent over in pain. Princess Regina appeared to apologize to him and he hissed at her loudly, insulting her. Robin’s blood boiled even before she took off running. He didn’t think twice at that point.

            He ran after her.

            Robin exited the ballroom into the palace gardens, realizing he wasn’t alone. Others left in hopes of comforting the princess and he wondered if they just really wanted some alone time with her. He paused, asking himself if he really wanted to comfort her or just finally get to talk to her by himself.

            “If you take the second path from the middle, it will lead you to an apple tree. The princess likes to go there when she wants to be alone,” a familiar voice said, making him jump.

            He turned around to find the green fairy standing behind him. Instead of the dress she wore earlier, this time she was dressed as a palace servant. She held up a pair of slippers. “Bring these to her as well. She is likely in a lot of pain right now.”

            “She probably wants to be alone right now,” he said, hesitating to take the shoes from her. “She doesn’t need someone who is just going to use her.”

             The fairy tilted her head. “Do you remember why I granted your wish to go to the ball?”

            He frowned. “Because you considered me an honorable man who helps people and that was why I wanted to go to the ball—to ask the princess for her help.”

            “The princess also needs help,” the fairy continued. “And the fact that you already care about her feelings and not hurting her tells me that you are the right one to help her. She needs at least a friend, someone to care for her. Someone to support her and stand by her side. Do you think you can do that?”

            Robin glanced toward the gardens, knowing a distraught princess was hiding in there rather than celebrating her birthday in the ballroom. His heart ached for her and he found he did want to comfort her, not because she could help his people but because she needed it.

            “Second path from the middle,” the fairy repeated, holding out the slippers again. “Look for the apple tree. Tell her Tink sent you. And remember what I told you earlier—just be yourself and she’ll respond to that.”

            He took the slippers from the fairy and set off down the path she had pointed out to him. Robin was going to find the princess and be what she needed the most.

            A friend.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is more Robin Hood than Cinderella but I promise the Cinderella elements will come into play next chapter, which will be published on Friday. 
> 
> Tomorrow is the next part of "Movies Stars Don't Dance."


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